


Yesterday You'd Forgiven Me

by Ardatli



Series: Summer Lovin' [2]
Category: New Avengers (Comics), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, An AU variation of the Volume 2 reconciliation, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Missing Scene, References to Depression, References to caregiver burnout, Relationship Discussions, Suicide mention, or: Billy is an angstpuppy and Teddy runs away from his problems, or: the kinds of conversations you actually need to have to fix the things you broke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: He’d called. And despite Teddy not even thinking about the time difference, the seven hours and thousands of miles between them, Billy had answered. He’d been hesitant, his voice on the other end of the line breathless and tight, and Teddy had tied himself into a thousand knots and untangled them all at once in the moment it had taken him to say hello.There had been crying. Then Billy had done some shouting and he’d been perversely happy at that, because Billy-when-he-was-sick would have kept all the poison inside, and wouldn’t have yelled at him at all.A week and more than a dozen Skype calls later Billy had met him at Heathrow. There had been some more shouting, and then a lot of talking, and even more kissing, and by the end of that weekend things were better than they had ever, ever been.Or, here's how that all went down.





	Yesterday You'd Forgiven Me

**Author's Note:**

> Ten years pass between the final chapter of Are You Ready for the Summer and the Epilogue, and the guys in this 'verse went through a variation on the Volume 2 breakup. We get a short summary of that time in their lives from Teddy's perspective in the epilogue to that story; here's Billy's point of view. 
> 
> -
> 
> You do not need to have read [Are You Ready for the Summer](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4566234/chapters/10397241) in order to follow this one. The relevant information is that the guys met at summer camp as teenagers, they dated for three years, broke up primarily because of Billy's major depressive episode, and it's now been a year since Teddy walked away.

* * *

It's been one week since you looked at me  
Cocked your head to the side  
and said I'm angry  
Five days since you laughed at me saying  
Get that together come back and see me  
Three days since the living room,  
I realized it's all my fault, but couldn't tell you  
Yesterday you'd forgiven me  
But it'll still be two days till I say I'm sorry

_\- One Week, Barenaked Ladies_

 

Another spring day, four years after Billy’s mother had first dropped the ‘working at camp’ bombshell on him, and he was back in front of his computer editing videos. Not for camp —this would be the second summer he wasn’t going to be returning to Manitoulin—but for something better. Festival entry, open to film-making students, and now that the college semester was _finally_ over, he had some serious catching up to do on his own projects. Last summer had been a shitshow; this year was going to be better. He was going to stay busy, for one, rather than brood over things he couldn’t change.

This sort of thing, the video clips staggered on his screen, the audio tracks laying underneath them, the technical choreography that was becoming as instinctive as blinking, or walking—this, he could control. This, he was _good_ at. And the rush of confidence when his teachers agreed with him had made the risk of film school all worthwhile.

He’d never be the doctor or lawyer that his parents had wanted, but there was room for a documentary filmmaker to make some real change in the world. There were lots of ways to be a hero.

Except the clock in the corner of his screen read 5:16, which meant Tommy would be home from class any minute. Billy grabbed for the USB key that should have been sitting on the back of his desk, but his fingers closed on empty air. Shit. Where the hell was it? He pushed off from the desk and scooted his wheeled chair across the small bedroom—their tiny apartment didn’t exactly leave a lot of floor space—but it wasn’t in his bag, either.

Pocket of his jacket, top of his dresser—junk box that he dumped everything small into when he got fed up with the clutter.

Billy spilled the box out over the wooden surface and sorted quickly through the random crap. There was the USB key, which he tossed toward the desk. Except that when he gathered up the pile of receipts and paper clips, pin badges and dead pens, something still in the bottom of the box caught his eye.

It glinted silver in the light, and a lump grew sourly in Billy’s throat when he spilled the chain out into his hand.

A bracelet, steel rings attached to an ID tag, and a name that marched across it in block letters.

_TEDDY._

The cold links slipped through his fingers, the whole thing heavier than he remembered from the years it had been on his wrist. He fought against the ache and the regret for a breath, then gave up and let it wash over him.

 _Embrace all of your feelings as part of you – by accepting them you can move through, and let them go._ Therapy talk, but it made a certain kind of sense.  

The moment hung there, and if regret tasted like anything, it was the sourness that continued to build in his mouth.

Breathe in, remember the good. Breathe out, let the past go.

It was harder than it seemed.

Billy tipped his hand and let the bracelet fall back into the box. He tossed in the rest of the desk junk, and pushed the box back to the centre of his dresser where it belonged.

The sour taste faded and vanished, the lump in his throat hanging on a little longer.

It had been more than a year since that last phone call, last contact. And even Tommy—if he heard from Teddy at all—didn’t mention his name. Billy was better off not knowing.

_Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re happy._

* * *

Billy had all but forgotten the bracelet over the next few days. He was busy, after all, with summer job applications and his film; hanging out with friends (see, mom? Getting out of the house!). So when the phone rang at eight in the morning on Friday, any thoughts of something out of the ordinary didn’t cross his mind. There was the annoyance of spitting out the toothpaste and skidding into his room to find his phone, of course, and the unfamiliar 90 code in front of the 212 threw him for a minute, but ‘unknown number’ could as easily be a job interview request as a spammer.

He paused before answering, took a second to catch his breath, and answered the call. “Hello?”

The voice caught him off guard- “Billy?”

Everything jammed into his throat at once and he couldn’t talk.

_What the fuck no no don’t do this to me now._

“Billy, are you there?”

He sucked in air to break the blockage and find his voice. _Before he hangs up don’t let him hang up._ “Teddy? What the fuck? Where are you?” Logic, thought, nothing penetrated the sudden burst of white noise inside his brain. _Teddy is on the phone._

“I’m in Istanbul,” that familiar voice said, all crackly and distant.

“Is something wrong?” Shit; had something happened to Mrs. A? Maybe he was going to ask Billy to check on her- or- No. Panic wasn’t useful here. He had to find solid footing again, the world tilting crazily out of whack. “What the hell are you doing in _Istanbul_?”

The crackle of a bad connection again, then, “Nothing’s wrong. I wanted to talk to you, I guess. Hear your voice. How are you doing?”

Anger was an excellent antidote for panic, the rush of heat burning away the static behind his eyes. “A hell of a lot better five minutes ago than I am right now – what the _fuck,_ Teddy? You can’t just call after ghosting me for more than a fucking year and say ‘hi, how’s it going’!”

_Feel my feelings, hunh? Well, here’s a whole lot of them all happening at once._

A year’s worth and more, all sitting in the lump behind his tongue, and if he unleashed it all right now those words would explode and leave only ashes. _But there isn’t anything here except for ashes._

A pause that beat out two, three seconds in time, and Billy held his breath, listened for the click of the line disconnecting, for the absolute assurance that things were really, truly done. He heard Teddy’s voice instead, no way to tell from here anything about his mood or what he might be thinking. “Can you get on Skype? I don’t have a lot of minutes on my phone, but I can get wi-fi here.”

What, so Billy could flip him off live and in person? That sounded like a fantastic plan. He didn’t have time for this; he was supposed to go down to campus, and hit the library, and-

“Fine,” he said instead. But it wasn’t fine at all, and he muttered darkly as he hung up the phone. “Sure. Great. Whatever.”

To the computer, then, boot up Skype and sit in his chair- was his hair all over the place? Did he have toothpaste on his chin? Shit —would Teddy be able to see how messy his room was from this angle? Did it look like the bedroom of a depressive mess, or a functioning adult?

Too late. The call was ringing, the breaths he took between the circles popping up and the moment he pushed the button complete and utter agony.

At first all he saw was a dark silhouette, the shape of a head and shoulders against a backlit window, but then the view shifted; the light dimmed. There he was. Outside, the sun bright and blinding, not inside at all. The image jiggled, like he was using his phone, until he set it on something and the picture stabilized.

Teddy was still so God-damned beautiful that it hurt, his skin golden-tanned and his hair streaked paler from the sun. The afternoon light (not quite the golden hour, not quite perfection) turned his shaggy blond hair into an angel’s halo surrounding his face. He had a lip ring now; that was new.  Everything else was just as Billy had remembered him, only more so. Because he was alive, he was real, and he was still too far away to touch.

_Motherfucker._

Everything that had turned faintly achy over the past year switched back into the sword that sliced into his gut. Teddy looked up and met his eyes, something bold and hopeful in them.

The panic set in, his heart racing and his palms sweaty. There went his breath again, his lungs too tight to take in air and his throat too closed to let it out. Everything trembled with the surge of adrenaline pulsing through him, screaming at him. _Danger, run._

“I can’t do this,” Billy blurted out. And he hit [disconnect].

The screen went blue.

The panic didn’t stop.

The bubbles reappeared on the screen and the trilling dial sound made him jump. He watched it until it stopped, breathing slowly to try and settle his racing heart.

_Shit. Fuck._

_If I really thought I was over him, I was a bigger idiot than anyone on the planet has ever been._

His awful, unhelpful brain gladly provided him with about three or four more memories of Billy-being-stupid in rapid succession.

_Thanks so much._

Billy’s phone blooped sadly. A text sat on the screen.

 **Unknown number:** Billy, c’mon. Talk to me.

The room wasn’t big enough to get more than three paces in any one direction but Billy did the circuit, dragging his hands through his hair, before collapsing back into his desk chair. Fine, this was fine. He was a grownup, he could do this. Talk to the ex that he’d never really gotten over (no matter what kind of lies he told to himself).

 _Deep breath,_ _Billy. He used to be your best friend. Nothing bad is going to happen just by talking to him._

His mood could only improve from here, right? 

Billy sat down at the computer, scrubbed away the stinging from his eyes and redialled.

Teddy’s expression when the call connected was one of naked relief, which faded when he met Billy’s eyes. “I guess I should have emailed first, hunh?”

Billy’s laugh came out harsh, and he slumped back in his chair, staring at the camera instead of at the screen. “Ten or eleven months ago would have been a good start.”

Teddy winced, and Billy felt bad, and wasn’t that the way things always went? He shot off his mouth and Teddy took it, until he hadn’t anymore. Except that Teddy had broken up with him, walked away without looking back. Billy had a right to be angry. “Seriously, Teddy. Why are you calling?”

_Why now, when I’ve put myself back together and I don’t need you anymore?_

Teddy folded his arms and leaned forward, resting them on the glass tabletop of whatever cafe patio he was sitting on. “I said it already. I’ve been thinking about you,” and he said that part awkwardly, like he didn’t want to admit it, or- or like he was afraid Billy would hang up on him again. Fair. “A lot, lately. And I wanted to know how you were. What you were doing. Say hi.”

And everything about the way he was holding himself, the way he was talking, it was so much like that first summer—when Teddy had been the broken one. And now, despite the years in between, he was still unsure, reaching out to Billy through the fear, putting himself on the line. And all Billy could feel, smell, taste, was the hot iron tang of grief and anger mingled.

“I’m fine,” was all he said, instead of the thousand other lines burning grooves into his tongue. “Good.” He wanted to catch up? Billy would catch him up. He wouldn’t play the grieving ex, waiting by the phone for Teddy to change his mind. “Really good, actually. Straight As in all my classes, and I have a couple of short films going into festivals this summer.”

The ‘couple’ was only sort of a lie—he was co-producer on one more, after all, and ‘applying for’ could be construed as ‘going into.’ For certain values of ‘going.’

“That’s fantastic!” Teddy perked up, and his smile was still devastating. Worse yet, Billy’s pulse seemed to thrill to it, and he fought—hard—against the rush of warmth that wanted to come.

_I do not need his approval._

“Thank you. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in Istanbul.” There. He was perfectly capable of holding down an adult conversation. The lump in his throat was fading, the panic that had his lungs on lockdown was easing off, even if his skin still tingled and his heart was still beating way too fast.

He could manage this. He could listen to Teddy’s travel stories, maybe even smile at his jokes, and then, when the call was over, he could go take a long, long shower. And try to let him go once more.

* * *

Only somehow, it didn’t end there. Billy had found himself agreeing to meet Teddy on Skype again the next day. The elephant in the room still loomed large, despite Billy’s first outburst. Neither of them said anything at all about the past — not about dating, not about breaking up, and definitely not about whether either one of them was going out with anyone now. Teddy talked about train passes and working as a dishwasher in restaurants where he didn’t speak the language, about overnights in hostels where he had to sleep with his bag under his head, and weekends on bright, sandy beaches.

And he’d stopped, a couple of times, like he’d been about to say something and changed his mind. Billy could still read him well enough to see that.

Billy’s tangled-up brain and heart didn’t untangle at all. He’d figured maybe it would. That he was getting closure on his first great love affair, and now all the demons of his past would be excised. The panic had faded, true, but just because he’d already gone through both fight and flight in rapid succession didn’t mean he had any better ideas left to try.

Seeing him again was bliss and torture together, and stirred up everything that Billy had spent ages trying to get behind him.

It was a lot trickier to consign your feelings for someone ‘to the past’ when he was sitting right in front of you for the second time in a day. Two days in a row, for him, thanks to time differences, but while the sun had changed places in the sky and he had a cup of coffee with him, the aura of... of _something_ _anticipated_ around Teddy hadn’t dimmed at all.

He was beautiful, and Billy would be in love with him until the end of time, and that was all there was to it.

Even though Teddy didn’t want him.

* * *

That thought fuelled him through the next day. Anger was apparently the next stage in his grieving process, and it hit Billy full-on during the next conversation. Tommy had looked in, seen Teddy on the screen, and walked out rolling his eyes and muttering things under his breath, but that was fine. Better that he wasn’t in the apartment anyway, because every time Teddy asked him questions, or started to tell a joke, the resentment built higher inside.

_We could have been talking like this all year. We could have been doing these things together if you hadn’t ditched me._

Teddy had probably figured Billy would only hold him back. There was probably a boyfriend he wasn’t mentioning, editing him carefully out of the stories in some failed attempt to protect Billy’s feelings.

Billy could hear his own responses getting shorter and more clipped, the weight of _too much feeling_ pressing down on him until he was exhausted.

Until the next thing that Teddy asked wasn’t edited to leave out a boyfriend at all. “So.” He let out a long breath, like the next words out of his mouth were going to be hard to say. He was wearing a blue t-shirt this morning, a soft drapey thing the colour of his eyes, and Billy traced the line of his shoulders with his gaze.

As bad as the last two days had been, at least he had this now—memories to replace Teddy’s sad eyes, the tears, the hunch in his shoulders as he’d waited for the bus outside Billy’s parents’ apartment.

He’d watched through the window until Teddy got on the bus. Then he’d broken down and cried.

This was better, even if Billy didn’t want to let go of the hurt. At least Teddy was happy, even if he was happier being as far away from Billy as Earth’s continents would allow.

“So?” Billy echoed, shaking off the gloom and the hurt a little bit, and re-engaging in the conversation.

“I bought a plane ticket,” Teddy said, and why was he looking nervous? This was what he’d been doing the whole time, jumping from place to place, country to country, another one in a long string of backpacking college kids seeing the world.

Unless he meant- Billy’s heart was right back in his throat and his breath caught, the bastard.

Because even if Teddy was coming home, it wasn’t because of Billy.

“Oh yeah?” Billy tried to sound vaguely disinterested, because it was easier that way. Showing your hand only meant you lost the game. He knew that a lot better now.

Teddy nodded. “To London. I leave Friday night, I’ll be there Saturday afternoon.” And he let out another long breath, his shoulders squaring. He looked Billy in the eye. “Meet me there?”

Billy’d imagined that Teddy’s first phone call was the most dramatic of all possible surprises, but apparently he’d been wrong. As usual. “You want me to do what?”

Teddy’s lower lip came out and his jaw set, determination setting in. Billy knew that face too; it meant Teddy was going to be too fucking _stubborn_ to listen to any kind of argument about whatever he’d just set his mind on. “Come to England. Meet me at Heathrow. If you don’t come, I get it. It’s too much to ask given the way things ended. I just – I want to see you. I miss you.”

 _And what about what_ I _want?_

“Are you serious?” Billy reacted without thinking, nothing new there. The resentment won over the curl of something that felt an awful lot like hope. That was a dangerous feeling, one that would only lead to getting hurt again. “I have a life, Teddy. I have shit to do.”

“You’re saying no.” And he looked so defeated there, so utterly sad, that Billy almost changed his mind. He doubled-down instead, because going meant risking, and risking meant loss and then pain, and he was still too angry and sad and tired to even begin to think about it now.  

“What did you think I’d say? Yeah, sure, I’ll fly across the Atlantic for a hook-up and pretend the last year never happened? Because it did, and I’ve moved on.” So there.   

Teddy’s reaction should have been vindicating, the flash of —what, misery? He did care, then—but it was only a close approximation of the gut-wrenching loss Billy had felt all last spring and summer. “You’re dating someone?”

 _Lie, say yes, prove to him that you’re happy without him. That you_ can _be happy without him._

“No, but I could be. I definitely haven’t been sitting around in my room waiting for the glorious day you’d choose to grace me with your presence again!” Billy pushed back from the desk, but Teddy leaned forward, closer to his camera. His jaw was still set.

“I get that you’re angry, alright? I deserved that. Now stop _reacting_ and running scared, and think about it. I’m not asking you to elope with me, for God’s sake. Just come and hang out. I really don’t want to leave things the way they are. Especially not now that we’re talking again.”

Teddy’s question had come down like a blow to Billy’s head, or maybe his gut, because it was the middle of his chest that was hurting.

Except that the hurt felt good, the jolt inside had been one of joy mixed with a reasonably healthy dose of terror, and Billy didn’t know which way to look, which way to think. He needed – he needed time to figure it out, rather than go off half-cocked.

“Fine,” he replied, proud of how steady his voice came out even though his chest was tied in knots and stabbed through. “I’ll think about it. But I have to go now.” And he didn’t wait for Teddy to say goodbye before he disconnected, and shut his computer down.

* * *

Two days after _that_ little bomb drop, Billy still hadn’t made up his mind. He’d gotten as far as pricing tickets. If it was totally unaffordable, then hey! Not his fault that Teddy was making an unreasonable request. Except there were a handful of off-season seat sales that put a round trip easily within reach. No excuse there.

He could just say no, and keep going with his life. A very good life, for the record, with a place of his own, friends who enjoyed his company, even a couple of guys who were up for semi-regular FWB-type things. He didn’t have a boyfriend, hadn’t had one since Teddy, but that was fine too. He was young and the world was open. What did he need to go chasing after an ex for?

It’s not like they’d even really broached the subject. Teddy had talked around it some, with his claims that he missed Billy, but even though they’d talked a lot about other things, he’d still never come right out and _said_ that he wanted to get back together. The invitation was probably supposed to speak for itself.

“For fuck’s sake.” Tommy shoved Billy’s chair over and plopped down beside him at the table. He had a takeout bag with him and fished out a burger and box of fries. “Stop moping and do something, one way or the other I don’t actually care. Just make up your mind and get over yourself.”

Billy repositioned his head on his arms so that he could see his twin, Tommy’s hair back to dark brown now and laugh lines slowly appearing around his smile. He smiled a lot more often these days. He wasn’t smiling now. “Since when do you not have an opinion on something?”

Wrong move. Tommy took a bite that encompassed a full third of the burger and chewed, slowly and deliberately, staring at Billy the entire time. “Oh, I have an opinion alright. But you don’t want to hear it.”

He’d take Teddy’s side, because he always did. Always had; Teddy had been his friend for a full decade before either of them had known Billy existed.

“He’s the one who left.” It seemed important to point that out before Tommy told him what a terrible person he was being.

Tommy nodded, and chewed some more. “People leave. Happens all the time.” That was where he paused, made sure he had eye contact with Billy before continuing. “They don’t usually come _back_.”

And if anyone would know, it would be Tommy. “... you think I should go.”

The eye roll he got from Tommy stung, but was probably deserved. “If the choice is between you and Teddy working shit out, or listening to you whine the rest of our lives about pissing away your second chance? Yeah. I do. Because he turned himself inside out for you, and you never once saw it.” He stabbed the table with his finger, an inch away from Billy’s folded arms. _Oh._ “If he wants some kind of closure now? You owe him that much.”

He shoved the rest of his hamburger into his mouth, grabbed his fries and vanished into his room, leaving Billy alone with his thoughts.  

* * *

He went, in the end, because if there was one thing Billy was bad at, it was leaving well enough alone. If there’s a scab, it’s there for picking at. Flying across the Atlantic to do himself some scar-picking damage was something of a new low, but hell. May as well think big.

Any lingering resentment and anger was blown completely out of Billy’s mind by the time he was racing through Heathrow airport, a ticking clock sounding loud in the back of his head. ‘If you come,’ Teddy’s last text had said before he vanished to start his trip from Istanbul, ‘my plane gets in at 2 local time. I’ll be there until 6.’ He’d sent the name of a coffee shop on the concourse, Billy’s plane would land before three, and it had all seemed so easy.

That plan hadn’t taken into account a delay at JFK where they sat on the tarmac for an hour and Billy slowly died inside. And it certainly hadn’t included the hour and a half wait at customs where he couldn’t even take out his phone for fear of getting dogpiled by customs agents and shipped back home to the USA in handcuffs. And for ‘why are you entering the country,’ the real answer of ‘to see if my ex-boyfriend still loves me’ didn’t seem at all like it would fly.

The clock on the wall ticked over, 5:59 changing to 6:00 and he was so fucked. He was almost there, according to the map. He skidded around the corner, barely missed being taken out by a family with an SUV-sized stroller, and there it was.

The cafe, and Teddy was there, pushing his chair back from the corner table. His head hung so low and as he wiped something from his face as Billy watched, pulling the back of his hand across his eyes.

He was picking up his backpack and he was going to leave and never know that Billy was _right there._

Billy had imagined that he was all calloused over now, after a week of freaking out. That seeing Teddy would be like a high school reunion; see the guy, notice the lack of any connection – because Teddy had broken it, broken his promises, and...

_(Billy had broken them first. He’d left in spirit, long before Teddy had left in body.)_

He’d been so wrong. So incredibly wrong. He’d never been more wrong in his entire life and would never be as badly wrong again.

Billy was so close, just on the wrong side of the moving walkway- he vaulted over the rail, then the next, carry-on bag slamming into his hip and his feet barely hitting the ground.

“Teddy!”

Teddy stopped, whipped around, and Billy barely had time to register the shock printed on his face before he was skidding to a halt in front of Teddy, gasping for breath. Teddy’s bag hit the floor and then he was grabbing Billy’s hand and pulled him into an embrace so desperate it couldn’t be called a hug at all. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” Billy still couldn’t breathe but it wasn’t all from the running. He wrapped his arms as tight around Teddy as he could, his hands flat against Teddy’s back. Teddy’s shoulders were shaking – was he laughing? No; his face was wet, so was Billy’s. Teddy buried his face in Billy’s shoulder. Billy ran his fingers through the ends of Teddy’s hair, longer now than he’d ever seen it; longer than it had looked over Skype.

“You made me wait, asshole.” Teddy was speaking against Billy’s skin, not about to let him go. He lifted his head but kept his arms around Billy’s waist, and his eyes glistened with wet. They both talked at once, words tumbling over each other while Billy’s hands burned on Teddy’s neck. He had to let go; he didn’t want to. “Your flight landed and you didn’t show. I was sure-”

“I got stuck in customs. I tried to text as soon as I got out, but it didn’t go through.”

“I don’t have a SIM card that works in England yet; I don’t have my phone on.”

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.” Billy finally caught his breath, realizing with a black blow where he was standing, his arms around Teddy. Who was most certainly his _ex_ , no longer his best friend, practically a stranger. Everything physical was so familiar; the steady power in his arms, the smatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose that came up when he spent too much time in the sun, the curl of his lower lip, now dimpled around the ring that looped over and in.

Billy stepped back, breaking the clinch first. He dragged in a deep breath, pinched the bridge of his nose and got rid of any wetness along his eyelashes at the same time, the world re-orienting itself around the knowledge that he and Teddy were standing in the same space, together. He took a step back.

“It would have been awkward to wander around here for an hour trying to find you.” It wasn’t how his baser urges wanted to end that sentence. But Teddy didn’t belong to Billy anymore; Billy had lost the right to hold him, to breathe him in like this, to want him.

He didn’t _want_ to want him, either.

“Yeah.” Teddy ducked his head, looked around, then grabbed his backpack up off the floor. “We should get moving, though—the hostel desk closes at eight, and it’ll take forever to get downtown.”

Billy shook his head. “I’m not going – that is, you don’t have to either, if you don’t want to.” Confession time, but given the way everything had spooled out, there was no way Teddy could hold this one against him, could he? Especially when Billy was extending the invitation. “I wasn’t sure that you would be here. So I booked a hotel room, to give me time to figure out what to do next when you didn’t show up. Cheapest one I could find attached to the airport, so it won’t be that great, but it’s better than a bunk bed at a hostel.” He ran out of air at the same time as he ran out of words, and because apparently he was on a lucky run right then, Teddy didn’t give him shit for his doubts.

“If you’re sure you want me there,” Teddy began, then shut his mouth, and changed his reply. “That sounds good. But I need to get some food on the way. Airplane meals suck, and I’m starving.”

And that would be that, distance filtering back in between them as they debated takeout choices. Even the part of Billy’s brain that was screaming in his ear settled down, overrun by the noise of the airport concourse and the immediate task at hand. _Food first, then check in, and I don’t have to figure anything else out until then._

He resolutely ignored the way Teddy kept stealing glances at him, all the way to the hotel. It didn’t _mean_ anything, and he couldn’t trick himself into pretending it did.  

* * *

Mood swings were nothing new. Everyone had days where they woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or had a crash in the afternoon. But that afternoon every time he blinked had been like changing the slides on a viewmaster, swapping between awe, joy, guilt and resentment so full he could taste it. He was breathless in the face of the hurricane inside him. Even those dumb mindfulness exercises didn’t help, the sound of the water running while Teddy showered ( _Teddy showering- how did they get here at all?)_ the perfect background white noise to make his mental loop really nice and loud.

_What do we do now? What do I do now? He’s going to leave again when this weekend is over; how will I cope with that? Part of me died when he left before, and I only just got it back. He left and didn’t care what that would do to me — he left because he thought I didn’t care about what I was doing to him. He’s going to leave again when this weekend is over._

If he could only settle on _one_ reaction, one feeling to focus on, then he’d be okay. If it was just angry, then he could scream; just happy then he could enjoy the time for what it was-

“Billy?” Teddy was standing there, wet hair but clothes on, within arm’s reach of the overstuffed armchair Billy had claimed for thinking in. “You still in there?” even his jokes were tentative now, that easy teasing a distant memory.

“Yeah, I’m in here.” It came out snippier than he’d meant it to. “I’m fine.”

“It’s not fine.” Teddy just shook his head, and the guilt hit Billy all over again. _He wants something from me and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do._ “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Teddy asked him, and that wasn’t going to be easy. “I can’t figure you out today, and it’s making me crazy.”

“Fine,” Billy admitted, swallowing against the hard lump in his throat and the thousand voices chattering at once in his head. “You caught me, I’m not fine. I’m still pissed at you.”

That made Teddy frown, and Billy was at once satisfied and immediately ashamed of himself for it. “I thought we’d covered this part already. When we talked last week—you said we were okay.”

Billy pressed his eyes tight, tried to find a word for what he was feeling, and the only thing that came back was _tired._ “You had every right to break up with me, alright? I am okay with that. No-one can make anyone stay in a relationship they don’t want.”

Teddy dropped to a squat, putting his head on the same level as Billy’s. He sat so close that Billy could reach out a hand to him, just — reach out and take his hand and pull him close, bridge the distance that had opened up again since the airport. But the void was vast and filled with something dark that bubbled up now, reaching for the light.

“That wasn’t what happened, and you know that.” Teddy wasn’t shouting, and that was worse. He spoke firmly and surely, staring Billy down so he couldn’t squirm away. “I wanted the relationship we’d _had,_ Bee. Where I had any chance — _any_ hope—of making you happy.”

He _hurt_ , and had run out of the strength to fight it any more. The dam broke, all Billy’s defences crumbling into dust, the black bile pushing aside every wall and barrier he’d slammed onto it over the years.   

“So you _left,_ ” Billy fired back at him, the soft chair underneath him becoming a bed of nails. “Just when the hard part was over, you left. You couldn’t even give me the chance to fix what I broke—it just wasn’t worth it? Is that it? I was getting _better_. Everything could have gone back to being good – and _that’s_ when you bailed out.” The violence of the truth made his throat sore; his fucking eyes filled with tears again, and this time he couldn’t stop them. “I never got the chance to make things right. I could have made it right.”

“Billy.” His name was on Teddy’s lips and it was harsh, pulled from his throat like he was the one in pain, like he’d been the one left behind-

_Wasn’t he? You went away and he couldn’t get in._

“Billy, no.” Teddy bridged the space between them, closed it completely. He rocked forward onto his knees. Cupping Billy’s face between his hands he sank his fingers into Billy’s hair, warm and strong, holding him steady, his forehead against Billy’s and tears in his eyes. Billy’s breath hitched, the sobs coming. He had no strength to fight anything anymore. He was the fuckup; why was Teddy the one crying? “There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. I needed to go, for myself. There was nothing for you to fix.”

Billy grabbed Teddy’s shirt and hung on, the soft worn-out cotton clenched in his fists. If he let go Teddy would disappear again. Billy would lose him again, and next time he’d never be found. His smell was everywhere, salt air and sunshine, coffee on his breath, and the tears wouldn’t stop silently rolling down Billy’s face. Teddy didn’t move either, their foreheads touching, and if Billy opened his eyes again he knew he’d see tears there too, Teddy’s shoulders hitching as he struggled for breath. “I’ve missed you so much,” Teddy whispered.

_Then why did you go away?_

The wordless cry stayed inside Billy’s heart where it belonged. Instead he yanked Teddy in, tipped his chin and brought their mouths together. Teddy gasped and devoured him, pushed himself up until he was balanced over Billy in the chair, his arms cordwood-tight and braced on the arms of the chair. Billy kissed Teddy, pushed his tongue into Teddy’s mouth and Teddy responded just as fierce and hungry.

This wasn’t romance or hearts colliding, not this time; Billy needed and he hated and loved all at once. Anger and pain and his faded memories of the dim greyness swamped him, overwhelmed him with everything he’d once thought was gone and buried.

 _I have no idea what’s going to happen after this, but I’m going to sleep with him._ For old times’ sake or to get something back at him – a hate fuck or lovemaking or a _how could you put me through this again don’t ever stop_ -

He’d figure out the rest later.

Shirt – he was going to rip Teddy’s shirt – Billy let go, Teddy’s lower lip still caught between his teeth, and grabbed for the hem. It hurt to stop kissing him for the second he needed to get their shirts off. Teddy pulled desperately at Billy’s clothes, his hands sliding up Billy’s chest, his arms, then grabbing his naked wrists and pinning him to the chair.

“I hate you,” Billy lied, pain locked in a death match with the fire inside him.

Awake, he was alive again, his skin buzzing and his mouth sore, Teddy’s teeth, his tongue, everything a blistering riot of sensation that couldn’t be contained. A stab lanced through his lip; he’d bitten it, or Teddy had, and he didn’t care.

“I know.” Teddy kissed him again, the bastard, pushing his thigh between Billy’s legs and moulding his body close against Billy’s side. Teddy held him tight around the wrists; Billy was safe there, pinned down and held secure. Teddy had him, now, and Billy would give him anything, anything at all, as long as he stayed. It had been the other way around, once, Billy keeping Teddy safe. When had the world turned upside down?

“You want to know why I left? Truth? I was _tired_ , Billy – so damn tired. There were months when I barely slept, waiting for your parents to call and tell me you were dead. I died inside every fucking time the phone rang.”

There, the knife to the heart that Billy deserved, grounded in so much honesty that he had to feel the shame instead of running, and turning it into anger. Anger was easier; it meant his heart wouldn’t hurt as much when Teddy left him behind. He was on fire with it, his body burning and hungry, shame churning beneath. “I didn’t mean to — I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you weren’t doing it on purpose, and that made it worse. At least then I could have gotten angry.” He scraped his teeth down the side of Billy’s throat, hot, wet, stinging. His arms trembled and he buried his head in the crook of Billy’s neck, breathed him in.

Billy closed his thighs tight around Teddy’s leg, sweet muscle and power, shaped to fit the spaces around Billy alone. They’d grown together, trees twining around one another, and only one person could fill the space in Billy’s soul that ached and bled. “You’re still an asshole. It’s been more than a _year_.” He tugged his hands free and Teddy let him go, straddled Billy’s lap instead. His skin was still damp from the shower, the air around him steam-thick.

There were no strange marks on his skin; the flash of colour on his shoulder was a tattoo, sun burned edges, no love bites or scars, no hickies—no signs of men Billy didn’t know. He sucked a trail of marks into Teddy’s shoulder, his neck, his chest. _My territory._ _You won’t forget about me so easily this time_. At least until they healed.

Teddy’s mouth found his again, greedy and devouring. His hands moved on Billy’s shoulders, his arms, his chest; Billy splayed his out across Teddy’s chest, nipples hard beneath his palms, the heat and force of him overwhelming. “I’m not apologizing for going,” Teddy said as Billy’s hand found his crotch. Teddy shuddered at his touch, his dick thick and hard inside his sweats.

“I know. I missed you, even when I swore I wasn’t going to,” Billy confessed, his voice a whisper. Billy cupped him, curled his fingers around as much of Teddy’s hard-on as he could reach, teased his fingertips down, then down further, the thick fabric muting the details and the sensation.

Apparently not muting it much for Teddy, because he gasped and his back arched, a faint keening sound in the back of his throat. There, Billy wanted him to make that sound again, his own body vibrating in tune to that wordless yearning.

More, more contact, more skin- under the waistband of Teddy’s grey sweatpants, he slid his hand down until he had his hand around Teddy’s cock again. Silk-soft and heavy, burning hot; the weight and feel of it was so familiar.

He knew what to do with this, the flick of his wrist that would make Teddy bite down against his shoulder, another stinging mark to add to his collection. And like this, tightening his grip and sliding faster, riding his foreskin rough and hard, as Teddy gasped for air, cried out his name. _I know you, I know your body, you used to be mine._

“Hang on,” Teddy begged, and “wait.” Billy stopped, the blood pounding in his ears and his mouth dry.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” Too far, too fast? But Teddy’s hands were on him, he pulled Billy to standing and tugged him back towards- _oh._

Towards the _bed_ , his hair a gorgeous golden mess, a red flush colouring him halfway down his chest, his waistband tucked down underneath his balls where Billy had shoved it—his cock, hard and proud, rising up against his stomach.

Billy was beyond aching; he hurt and he burned, and the only cure was to get his hands back on this boy, this man, hands and mouth and tongue. So he set his hands against Teddy’s chest and pushed him lightly, his laughter cut with an edge of the hysteria he was sure was going to follow whatever this was. Teddy never took his eyes off Billy, let himself fall backwards onto the bed and dragged Billy down with him. Condoms, lube, they didn’t have either, didn’t matter. Hands and mouths didn’t need it, and this was what they’d always been best at.

Billy sank down on him, swallowed his cock, too _much_ to worry about teasing and testing the waters. Teddy cried out, arched up and pushed in, his fingers buried in Billy’s hair – this was fucking, primal and raw, skin, sweat and the iron tang of blood from Billy’s bitten lip.

Teddy pushed up into his mouth, stretched him wide, and Billy took him in, rose and fell on him, making the pressure and the friction so sweet, so good. There was only this, the taste of him, the pressure and the thrust, Teddy’s fingers locking into his and holding him, his body arching, pushing, “now-”

Billy pulled back and a cry ripped out of Teddy’s throat, come splashing hot across his own stomach.

His own breath wouldn’t come back, his lungs tight, his mouth bruised. Beneath him, Teddy kicked off his sweatpants and rolled them over, settling between Billy’s thighs. He unzipped Billy’s jeans, mouthed him through the sweat-damp cotton of his briefs, then pulled everything down in one.

Heat and slick, claiming and consuming him, Teddy took his cock, hands at the base and his mouth everywhere. He hadn’t forgotten a damned thing, dragging sensation out of every nerve ending Billy owned.

Billy sank his fingers into the bedcovers, grabbed tight and held on through the hot pull, the release and swirl of Teddy’s tongue, tugs on his balls, Teddy’s fingers sliding further back again.

There, there was the edge and he hurtled toward it at light speed.

“I’m coming,” he got out, and heat was replaced with Teddy’s rough grip, just right, right now-

The world that had been black and white blazed with colour again, he pulsed with the waves of his orgasm, breaking over him, lightning through every vein.

White noise filled the corners of his brain. He gulped for air and found the block in the middle of his chest was gone. The paths blazed by the lightning were filled by the sea, a rising tide of calm euphoria that lifted him back into the world.

Teddy was holding him, arms around him, nose nuzzled into Billy’s hair. Billy laid his hand over Teddy’s heart and felt it racing double-time, his own keeping pace. “Billy,” Teddy murmured, and through his palm Billy felt his breath hitching. He rolled to his side and kicked up along the bed, so that Teddy’s head could rest on his chest. Billy wrapped his arms around Teddy’s shoulders and held him close, Teddy’s arms slipping tight around his waist.

Nothing else was resolved, nothing could be just by screwing around, but he could start to make amends one action at a time. “I know,” he murmured just as softly in reply. “I’ve got you.”

If Teddy’s eyes had tears in them, Billy couldn’t see them from there. And Teddy couldn’t see the suspiciously wet shine in his.

Time passed that way, their heartbeats keeping rhythm and their bodies slowly cooling, drying... and much less romantically, sticking in awkward ways. Teddy peeled himself out of Billy’s arms first, closing himself in the bathroom. The water turned on a moment later.

Billy flopped onto his back, the blanket beneath him still damp from sweat. He needed to think this all through, play back the mental tape of everything he’d said, every word Teddy had spoken, put together a narrative that made sense. The clock said ten pm but his body disagreed, the urge to sleep fading as the rush from coming petered out and slipped away.

He hadn’t even figured out his plan for the night by the time Teddy was back, pulling on his sweatpants again and smelling of hotel soap. He hesitated, standing by the side of the bed, and the bite he gave his lip broke the parts of Billy’s heart that had always belonged to him. “Bathroom’s yours,” he offered, anything he might have said killed by the wide yawn that he tried to cover with his hand. He sat down as Billy stood up. “I’m sorry,” Teddy apologized. “I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours, my body thinks it’s one in the morning, and I’m dying. I have to crash.”

“It’s fine – I’m still wired.” Billy rummaged through his carry-on for his soap, pajamas, towel- hyper-aware the entire time of Teddy’s eyes on him. “You go ahead. I’ve got some things to do before I sleep.” Then there was that- one bed. At least it was a king-sized, no camp cot or single to force them into close contact.

He was giving Billy that look, his eyes sad and dark. But he just nodded, said goodnight, and slid beneath the sheets. Billy hit the shower, scrubbed away the faint film of _air travel_ that always seemed to cling to everything—also the streaks of come, both his and Teddy’s, and any trace of scent that might have been left behind.

The hickeys didn’t wash away, the line of red love-bites down his throat as glaring as the marks he’d sucked into Teddy’s skin.

_What the hell am I doing?_

His reflection in the fogged-over mirror didn’t have an answer.

Teddy was asleep on one side of the bed by the time Billy closed the bathroom door behind him and turned out the light. The curtains were open and he sat on the wide windowsill, staring out at the patterns of lights unfolding below.  

He’d wondered if Teddy still cared about him. He had an answer to that now; at least he thought he did. And he’d kidded himself that he didn’t care about Teddy this way anymore. That was a lie he’d never be able to tell himself again.

But none of that meant that Teddy wanted anything more than this weekend, a chance to briefly rekindle the fire that had gutted them both before. Closure, Tommy had called it-

A soft cry made him whip around. Teddy was sleeping, but he wasn’t peaceful. His brow furrowed and he made another soft noise. It sounded like a whimper this time, a bad dream?

Billy sat on the edge of the bed, careful, unsure, but Teddy didn’t wake up. He slipped in beside Teddy, and carefully, slowly, curled up against his side. “It’s okay, Tee. I’m here.” He murmured the reassurance into Teddy’s ear, not sure if he’d be heard, or if it even mattered. But Teddy’s dream seemed to leave him, his brow cleared, and a moment later he rolled over, flinging an arm across Billy and pulling him in close.

_I’m a Teddy’s bear._

There were too many puns involved in that and it was too weird a day to parse them all out enough to laugh. Billy cushioned his head on Teddy’s chest and listened to his breathing, and the steady, regular beat of his heart. And eventually, somewhere in there, he fell asleep as well.

* * *

The sun was up by the time Billy slid kicking and screaming back into consciousness. The clock on his phone said it was nine in the morning, his body was insisting it was five. He rolled over to try and get back to sleep, despite the rude sunlight playing across his face.

He was alone in the bed.

Billy sat up.

The hotel room was empty and for a minute Billy was right back there, that first day after Teddy had walked away, gutted and empty and so desperately alone. Nausea rose up in his throat, the bile burning up the back of his nose.

_He left._

But there, sitting on the table where Billy couldn’t possibly miss it, Teddy’s backpack.

There was no way he’d go back to Turkey—or wherever he was going next— without it. Which meant... which meant he was nearby, or planning to be back soon.

Once Billy didn’t need to fight the urge to throw up anymore, and he crossed the small room, he saw the note with one edge tucked underneath the backpack.

_Food run, back soon. T._

Because of course he’d left a note. He’d have known what Billy would think, how he’d panic—Teddy always, somehow, knew. Because he cared about people, was constantly trying to please them, to make them feel safe and warm. Loved.

Billy had been the focus of that care for so long, and then when it was gone—when Teddy had taken his love back—he’d left Billy empty again.

_I was so damn tired._

Selfish to the last, Billy hadn’t understood half of what Teddy had done for him until it was much too late.

The door opened with a sharp click and Teddy came back in, Billy still holding the note and staring off into space. He startled, turned and tried to smile. Teddy smiled back, but there was a distance and a weirdness there that shouldn’t have been. The disappointment felt like sad resignation, recognition of something he’d known all along.

Falling into bed together hadn’t been enough to fix the things that were broken. Maybe nothing would be.

A blink and the moment passed. Teddy held up a paper bag and a tray with two cups. “I come bearing spoils of war,” he joked gently, then looked down at the paper cups and frowned. “That is, I assume you still like coffee. You used to need at least half a cup before you could function.”

“Yeah, still do.” That wasn’t enough, and Billy nodded as he crossed the room to claim his breakfast. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Teddy stayed on the other side of the table unwrapping bagels and little plastic things of jam, keeping his hands busy, his eyes off of Billy. _I know that trick too._

Billy dropped to sit on the floor, his back against the pleather couch. His body ached in a few new places, and when he ran his hand over his shoulder, the tiny bruises reminded him they were there. For a little while last night they’d been under each others’ skin; Teddy had belonged to him.

Teddy had done the hard part. He’d reached out first, despite the risk.

“You're taking care of me again.” He nodded toward the breakfast spread that Teddy was rearranging for the third time in as many minutes.

Teddy’s eyes were wide when he looked up, and he shook his head. “No, I’m not. You bought dinner yesterday, so it’s my turn.”

“I don’t mean breakfast. Not entirely breakfast,” Billy amended. He picked up his cup to have something to do with his own hands, wrapped his fingers around it to ward off the chill that was starting to set in. “All of this. Inviting me here. Pushing me to talk.”

Teddy’s only reply was an uncomfortable shrug, and he picked at the seam of the cup in his hands.

“I meant about half of what I said yesterday,” Billy tried again, the words elusive at the moment he needed so badly to get this right. Teddy had been wounded as well, the winter before last; angry, hurt, alone—and he hadn’t had a Teddy taking care of _him_ through it all.

He finally got Teddy to make eye contact, his smile faint. “Not the ‘I hate you’ parts, I hope.”

“No, not those.” Billy tried for the coffee. It was black and bitter, harsh and unsugared, and it woke him up enough just by the taste that a little more of his brain kicked into gear. “I was wrong.”

“Call Guinness,” Teddy joked.

“When you left. You were putting on your oxygen mask.” It was a terrible metaphor, but at the same time it fit too well.  

Teddy’s brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

“It’s what you did, isn’t it? Like the airplane safety speech. Put on your own oxygen mask before helping others. So that you don’t become an extra casualty during a crash.”

He could see Teddy processing the thought, weighing the accuracy, then finally he nodded. Slowly, not entirely sure, but he nodded. “I... yeah. It’s as good an analogy as any, I guess. I wasn’t thinking about it in those words at the time.” He put the cup down, little strips of paper curled away from the seam. “You had it a lot worse, I know. But neither of us was in a good place.”

“I wish I could remember the details.” The grey fog lifted sometimes, flashes of scenes, events he knew had happened, but the edges of even the most vivid memory were dulled, erased, clouded over with a monochrome filter that occluded detail and drained everything of life.

“There’s not much to remember. Part of your brain decided to kill you, and the rest of it took a vacation for a while. Scared the hell out of everyone who loves you. Then you came back.”  

“Most of me, anyway. I’ll never be quite the same.”

Teddy actually smiled ruefully at that, and the breath caught in Billy’s throat at the wistfulness in his eyes. Even in casual just-thrown-on clothes, a faded t-shirt and cargo pants frayed at the hems and pockets, he was so luminously beautiful that he glowed. Was he an angel out of reach, or the boy who had cried in Billy’s arms in the dark? Or both, as infuriatingly complicated as a human being could be? “No-one is the same at twenty-one as they were at seventeen. Thank God for that,” he said, with feeling. “And when I knew you were going to be okay, I had to take some time to sort out my own shit. Figure out who I was when I wasn’t one-half of Billy-and-Teddy.”  

That was alright, that was an answer that made sense, that didn’t involve ‘had to get away from you because you were terrible and horrible.’ Because amazingly, his life hadn’t revolved entirely around Billy. Go figure. It also presented an opening for the obvious question, the one that might change the course of everything depending on the answer. “So who are you?”

And he earned a bright smile from Teddy in return. _I said the right thing._ “Turns out I’m a pretty decent guy.”

“I could have told you that.”

“Not and have me really believe it, Bee. It sounds bad, but some things don’t matter if someone else tells you.” He got a pointed look from Teddy and wordlessly conceded the point. Teddy kept talking. “I can think on my feet, make my own way around the world without pre-planning seventeen steps in advance, and when I’m done seeing all the things I want to see, I’m going to be a teacher.”

That was new, a direction he hadn’t been considering before—at least not that Billy remembered hearing. How long had Teddy been telling him important things that he just hadn’t been able to hear, or comprehend? “That’s —yeah, I can see that.”

“And,” Teddy went on, finally reaching for a muffin and the butter, “I figured out that it’s a lot easier to get around in the world when you’re not terrified of everyone learning your deep dark secrets. That one _is_ thanks to you, for the record.”

The smile that spread across Billy’s face wasn’t forced at all, but a swelling of warmth that pushed through from the inside-out. “Out and proud?” he guessed, and there was another one of Teddy’s bright smiles. He rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt and there was the tattoo Billy had half-noticed last night—a bird, wings spread as though in flight, feathers shaded in the six-coloured rainbow.

There was a lump in Billy’s throat again, but this time there was nothing sour about it at all. _I missed doing this with him, too—did he have someone else helping him pick out pictures, colours, placement?_ Except no; Teddy’s whole point was that he’d been doing the year on his own, becoming someone new _on_ his own. Billy’s voice came out soft when he spoke, wistful even in his own ears. “Looks good on you.”

Teddy cocked his head. “The tattoo?”

“Confidence.”

Teddy laughed, making eye contact and holding it. “It looked better on you first.” The blue of his eyes filled Billy’s world, from the faint silver star in the middle to the dark ring around the edge. There was still love there, maybe.. _._ Or maybe Billy was kidding himself. ‘Closure,’ Tommy had called it. And he would know Teddy better than Billy did, in some ways. Longer, anyway.

“You and Cass used to joke about it, but it was truer than you thought. I imprinted on people who would protect me.” Teddy’s speech didn’t sit right with Billy, but his emotions were swirling up again, tangled and tight, and he waited to see where this would go. “I felt like I needed you to fight for me, to keep the John Keslers of the world at bay. And you needed me for the same thing. But now I don't -” 

There it was, the beginning of the end. The bitter coffee was a better taste than hard bile, and Billy swallowed, hard. “-Don't need me? I already figured that part out, thanks.”

Teddy just frowned at him. “Let me finish, Bee.” The old nickname; he’d used it more than once already this weekend. Did he have the right, when he was about to rip Billy’s heart out of his chest again and trample it? “I found out that I can protect myself just fine. I can fight my own battles, and win. And you're doing amazing things. You don't need me as a safety net either.”

Whatever this was, it wasn’t shaping in to a ‘thanks for the hook-up’ speech. “I still don't understand,” Billy confessed. Here he was, using his words like a big boy, and he was still reeling—worse, running entirely blind when Teddy seemed to know exactly what was going on.

Teddy put his muffin down and poked the tabletop, tracing out a diagram that only he could see.

“I figure it's like this. If you _need_ someone, if you’re not whole without them, then it’s too easy to stay in a relationship because of fear. Or emptiness. That’s not love. That’s panic.

“And on the other side, if you're happy being alone with yourself, and don't need someone in your life to make it function... but there’s a specific someone that you _want_ to have beside you to share things with, because life is better with them there... that's real, not fear.” He looked up and locked eyes with Billy, and there was a question there, or at the very least, a longing that Billy could see, feel, practically _taste_. “That's something that can last.”

Too much, it was too much to process all at once. He couldn’t put names to the feelings that careened around inside, not this time.

The sun had come out, even if there was still a threat of cloud, and Billy’s skin yearned for the light. He was leaning in, drowning in Teddy’s eyes, a comet caught in orbit around a brilliantly glowing star. “Nothing lasts,” he whispered, a last, feeble attempt to stave off the inevitable, even as his orbit decayed and he fell.

“Pessimist.” Teddy reached across the small table, and cupped his hand along Billy’s jaw. Neither of them had shaved yet, the stubble there prickling under Teddy’s palm. Teddy brushed the pad of his thumb across Billy’s lips, and Billy turned his head to follow the caress.

“Maybe.” He was frozen there, someone hit ‘pause’ on the video of his life. Teddy’s touch was gentle this time, almost tentative, soothing; his gravitational pull dragged Billy close.

Billy stood, leaving Teddy’s hand behind, but only long enough to lace his fingers between Teddy’s. He circled the table in a couple of steps, Teddy’s face tipped up, watching him.

His fingers closed tight around Billy’s, held him until Billy slid down and straddled his knees, put himself in Teddy’s lap. Took the risk.

In return, Teddy took his other hand as well, his chin lifted and eyes locked on Billy’s. Grounded on both sides, Teddy’s thighs between and beneath his own, Billy brushed his lips against Teddy’s. No tears this time, no fire in his gut beyond the familiar rush of desire and yearning that had always, _always_ meant ‘Teddy.’

Teddy kissed him back, gentle and slow, holding tight to both of Billy’s hands. So warm, so soft, Billy sank down into him, tasted Teddy’s mouth with the tip of his tongue, traced the metal line of the ring in his lip. Teddy was beaming at him when Billy drew back, his eyes alight.

“This can,” he promised, and this time—for a little while—Billy believed him.

Their next kiss was deeper, the pressure of Teddy’s mouth firmer and more insistent. He let go of Billy’s hands and slid his own up the back of Billy’s shirt, warm from the coffee cup. Arousal crept slowly up on Billy, and he buried his fingers in Teddy’s hair, kept him there, kept his mouth close. He kissed him, over and over, sometimes closed-lipped and sometimes wet and hot. Teddy’s stubble prickled at his cheek; in years gone by he’d have made a joke about Velcro, or strike paper, but not now. This moment was something holy, glass too easily shattered.

Teddy rolled his hips up some, pushed against Billy’s groin, and the ache there turned to throbbing; agony behind the thin cotton of his pajama pants. Teddy tipped forward and bore Billy down to the floor, pressed one hard thigh between Billy’s legs. Billy rode up against him, slipped his hand between their bodies, under the waistband of Teddy’s cargos, found Teddy’s cock hard and waiting for him.

His name was on Teddy’s lips again, a sigh filled with wonder and joy. Billy curled his fingers tight around the tip, all he could reach from this angle, and Teddy groaned and laughed together.

Billy’s anger had long since burned out, the embers flaring into something delirious and new. Stripping off their clothes, they didn’t make it any further than the carpeted floor. Teddy braced himself above Billy, rocking into Billy’s hand while Billy stroked him, slow and gentle, tasted his mouth and licked the groans from his lips.

Touching Teddy’s body this time was almost religious in its intensity, mouths and fingertips relearning the tender spots and the secret places with a reverence they’d never had with each other before.

The first year it had been wonder and red hot desire, everything new and brilliant, fireworks behind his eyes every time. Later, sex had become about clinging and reassurance, remembering how to feel when his brain was numb and his body followed.

This time he was there, body and mind, and everything about Teddy’s kisses and his touch was a revelation layered over memories four years deep.

“Earth to Billy,” Teddy murmured in his ear, then sucked Billy’s earlobe into his mouth. He licked a stripe of wet along his hand before closing his fingers around _Billy_ , followed the pace that Billy had already set.

“I’m here,” Billy promised, pleasure shrieking bright up his spine. “Oh my God, Teddy; don’t stop, please don’t.”

“Never.”

Pushing into Teddy’s fist, Teddy riding into him, Billy let go only for a moment, long enough to wrap his hand around both of them together. Most of the way, anyway, his fingers not quite closing, but Teddy was there, his hand broad and firm, wrapping around them both as well.

This couldn’t end, he wanted this, this feeling to go on forever, just like this, lightning in his spine and his heart pounding.

Finally it was bordering on too much, too intense, sweat stinging behind his knees and his lips sore. Billy thrust _up_ and in and his dick slid along Teddy’s cock, precome and spit making them slick.

Teddy started to move faster, his teeth grabbing on to Billy’s lower lip, his breath coming hot on Billy’s face with pants sounding more desperate by the second. His thumb circled the head of Billy’s cock, pressing, stroking, the hot, hard line of Teddy’s cock, the pressure of their linked hands, the touching, _God_ the friction of his thumb right _there_ –

He was arching up, fucking in harder and faster before he could stop himself, force them to slow down, to make this last- “So good, Billy,” Teddy gasped, his hand tight, and the storm broke.

White noise again, fire surging through his blood, desire, pleasure and need crashing into each other in a supernova behind his eyes. Something spilled hot and wet over their hands; was it Billy’s come or Teddy’s? It all blurred together as Teddy cried out again and Billy’s body shook with aftershocks.

And he was still kissing Teddy, his hand still moving lazily up and down their cocks, eking out the last few tremors, the last few drops. Billy shuddered with it, sensation suddenly too much, overwhelming, and he let go.

Teddy collapsed down onto his elbow and buried his face in Billy’s shoulder. His back rose and fell as he fought to catch his breath. “Didn’t even make it to the bed that time,” he mourned.

The buzz in Billy’s head settled into a happy hum, and he traced a circle on Teddy’s hip. “We’ve become people-who-make-hotel-rooms-gross under black light.”

“I refuse to think about that.”

“Easy for you to say; you’re not the one lying on the carpet.”

This part was easy again, trading jokes, his soul sated and body warm, Teddy’s weight a welcome pressure.

Until he moved, anyway, grabbing Billy’s forearm and tugging him to his feet. “Showers,” Teddy declared, practically _giddy_ for some reason Billy couldn’t quite figure. But he was relaxed, his skin still tingling, so he went along for the ride, let Teddy practically manhandle him into the small hotel shower.

And this was good too, trading easy kisses under the water, running the tiny sliver of scented soap across Teddy’s back and chest, mapping out the constellation of red marks left from his mouth the night before.

Despite how _easy_ this all was now—the lump in his chest replaced with the sweet thrills of Teddy’s lips against his forehead, the strong sweeps of his hands across Billy’s back—he couldn’t bring himself to ask the questions.

They needed to; had to have this conversation before the weekend was over— _what is this, really? What do you plan to do next? Is there room for me in this grand plan of yours?—_ but the tenderness in Teddy’s eyes right then, the sleek press of his body, the way he laughed low in his throat all stopped him cold. 

_Not yet. Don’t spoil this moment with reality._

Monday morning and check-out time would come soon enough. Billy gave in to the fantasy, his arms around Teddy, and ran his fingertips up and down the smooth creases along Teddy’s spine. For a little while longer, anyway, the world outside could move on without them.

* * *

Not forever, of course. Nothing ever waited forever. They were dressed again (eventually) and Teddy had dug a tattered guidebook out from the apparently bottomless depths of his fancy three-level backpack, when Billy’s phone alarm went off.

_Now?_

Except of course it would be now, because London was four hours ahead — so the pills he should have taken when he rolled out of bed in the morning were finally due.

He didn’t think about it after that first flash of surprise, just fished through his bag until his hand closed around the small divided pill box. One med to bring him up, an anti-anxiety chaser to take the edge off and bring him back down, followed by the last mouthful of cold coffee from breakfast rather than try and find a cup and get water from the bathroom.

A year and a half worth of habit, give or take experiments with doses and timing, and Billy didn’t notice until he turned back to the bed that Teddy had gone quiet. Was watching him. “You’re still taking those?” he asked quietly, somehow unsure, and the lump began to re-form in Billy’s gut.

He closed his eyes for a second, bit back the first sarcastic comment that came to mind. He nodded instead, and he could feel the wall brick up again between them with every word. “Probably will be for life. Turns out chemical imbalances run in the family.” He closed the pill box with a definitive click and tucked it back in with his shaving kit, then made a point of looking Teddy straight in the eye. “Pretty speeches and amazing sex aside, this is my reality. This part of me is never going to go away.”

_If you only want me when I’m well, then you’re shit out of luck._

The admission didn’t hurt as badly now as it had before, when he was first coming to terms with the idea. _Illness_. It was so much easier to accept if it was visible, physical: antihistamines for allergies, antibiotics for the flu or even – God forbid – something like AZT. At least that kind of thing was quantifiable.

Teddy nodded, slower than Billy would like, and the joy that had been lighting up his face earlier was replaced by something a lot more hesitant.

“But they work,” Teddy asked, sounding like he was trying to reassure himself more than anything.

Billy shrugged, though the cold heaviness inside was starting to spread again. “A lot better than when I don’t take anything.” A realization followed _that_ , and he narrowed his eyes at Teddy. “This was a test, wasn’t it? If I was actively depressed again, I wouldn’t have been able to get my act together enough to buy the plane ticket. Or leave the house.”

“No!” Teddy dropped the book on the bed with a thud, looking—not entirely offended at the idea, but a little guilty. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“Liar.”

Teddy held his gaze for a beat, then another, then dropped it to study the bedspread. “Maybe a little. But you’re here, and it worked.”

Billy wanted to shout at him again, but he’d run out of lung power for that. He’d used up all his shouting last night, and the days before. All that he had left was grief. He wanted to join Teddy on the bed, to rub his shoulders and lie and promise that everything would be fine from now on. Even now, he couldn’t do it. “So what if it happens again? I can’t promise these meds will always work, that life won’t get hard. It’s the other way around. I can absolutely guarantee that I’m going to have bad days sometimes.” He lifted his chin defiantly, and laid it on the line. “Are you going to run away again, let me be someone else’s problem?”

“No. because I won’t have to.” He rose up on his knees and moved to the end of the bed nearest to Billy, met him eye to eye. “We were kids, Bee. I barely had time to get my feet under myself, and I wasn’t strong enough to hold you up as well. And now you’re standing, so am I.” He looked down at where he knelt on the end of the bed and laughed. “Metaphorically, anyway. This time we can brace each other.”

Panic started to rise at the idea that Teddy was suggesting—without going so far as to say the words. “You’re serious about wanting to get back together. This wasn’t just some ‘round up the ex-boyfriend for a nostalgia booty call’ thing.” He stalled to buy himself time; all he needed was a few seconds to wrap his brain around what might actually be happening.  

“You always liked my grand gestures before.” Teddy shrugged, and that wasn’t helping Billy’s muddled mind at all.

Teddy had flinched when he’d seen Billy taking his meds; whatever he was saying now, it didn’t change the fact that he was still wary. That he didn’t what—trust Billy not to fall back into the pit? It was a fair charge. Billy didn’t trust himself half the time. And that made the answer obvious.

“You said it yourself – we’re not the same people we used to be. We’ve both moved on.” If he said it with enough finality, maybe he could make himself believe it. _You don’t want to get caught up in my messes again, and I can’t blame you for that. I have to let you go._

He dropped to one knee, clenched his hands to stop them from trembling before unzipping a different pocket of his bag. The bracelet slid into his fingers like it had been waiting for him, cool and uncaring. “Here. I brought this back. It’s yours, and you should have it.” He held it out to Teddy, who took it from his hand.

Teddy sat back on his legs and turned the bracelet over in his hands, stared at the inscription on the tag. For a second it looked like his eyes were wet, but he blinked and then the illusion was gone. “I didn’t know you still had this.”

“I thought about getting rid of it.” Teddy definitely flinched when Billy said that, and the guilt hit him hard. “Sending it back to your mom, or something. But I couldn’t do it at the time. It hurt too much to think about.”  

Teddy dropped his feet to the floor, balled up the bracelet and put it back into Billy’s hand. It was warmer now, from Teddy’s body heat. “I don’t want it back.”  

He stood and walked away, not giving Billy the chance to reply, or make some kind of sarcastic comment. He wouldn’t have known what to say anyway. There had been threads spinning out between them again, starting to pull them back together, weave something stronger. And Billy had just gone at them with a flamethrower.

Better to get it over with now than in a year or two, when Teddy decided he wasn’t worth the trouble after all. He still had Teddy’s bracelet in his hand, and he shoved it deep into his pocket so he didn’t have to look at it anymore. Put his problems back in their box.

Except that the silence in the room hurt with every heartbeat that it lasted. Teddy unzipped his backpack and the noise it made was like tearing. Billy startled, looked over and Teddy looked quickly away. He started sorting out clothes, rerolling things that had been carefully folded already. Billy tried not to watch, head down and staring at his phone instead.

Teddy broke the silence, finally, his voice cracking partway through and nothing there but a longing so desperate that it shattered Billy’s heart all over again. “Don’t you think it’s possible? That you could ever love me again?” His hands fell still in his lap, fingers clenched white around a t-shirt.

_What?_

“Are you _joking_?” Billy found himself surging to his feet. Pain, in Teddy’s voice and in Billy’s gut—the words ripped out of him and he could see them hit their mark. His own agony impressed itself on Teddy’s face, and one selfish, awful part of him was briefly satisfied before the guilt and grief drowned it out. He crossed the space between them in two strides, sinking down on his knees. “Teddy. Tee. I never stopped. Not once.”  

“Then why?” It could have meant a thousand things, but in this moment there was only one possible answer.

“Because you want someone healthy, and I’ll never be that.” More shards of glass scraping pieces from his soul, a deeper gouge with every word. “Loving you can’t turn me into the man you need me to be.”

“That’s not true.” Teddy grabbed his hands and held them tight; Billy couldn’t run now if he’d wanted to. “I was surprised, sure, but only because you hadn’t said anything about it. Surprise isn’t fear, it’s not rejection. I want _you_ , Billy. And it’s good—it’s even better knowing that you’re doing what you have to. That you’re not letting it win anymore.” He slowed to a halt and took a shuddering breath, closed his eyes and shut Billy out. “I’m babbling. That’s the last thing you want to hear.” 

Billy was half-listening, his attention focused on the one major point that Teddy seemed to be glossing over. “How could you think I didn’t love you? You’re the one who fell out of love with me.” It seemed reasonable in his head, less so when he said it aloud.

“Never.” Teddy made his confession, hands locked tight around Billy’s, and his head bowed. “Not for a moment, Bee. There was a time when I thought maybe it would happen, that we really would be better off apart, but my heart never changed. It’s why I called.”

None of the depression-related mood swings Billy had experienced over the past few years had ever left him as inside out and wrung-dry as the last twenty-four hours (was it even that many?) He was a limp dishcloth, flung over a rack. Drained of almost everything emotion-related. “I thought it was because you were bored and wanted to talk to someone who hadn’t heard all of your stories already.”

At least he still had faint sarcasm to draw on. Teddy took the teasing with good grace, considering. “It was a decent side effect,” Teddy joked back, and when he lifted his head and met Billy’s eyes, there was hope simmering in those intoxicating blue depths once more.

_I put you on one hell of a rollercoaster too. I’m so sorry._

As though he’d heard Billy’s inner voice, Teddy leaned in and kissed him, First tender, then fierce, ending with Billy drawn up between Teddy’s thighs, their hands and fingers interlinked and clutching tight.

There was one thing Billy had to be absolutely sure that Teddy understood, above everything else. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. I never could.”

And it must have sounded true, because Teddy’s kiss scorched him down into his soul and left him helpless, arms around each other and bodies locked tight.

* * *

Sunday afternoon, they finally made it out of the hotel —for a few hours, anyway. It seemed important to actually see the sun, remember that the world existed outside of those four close walls, the bed, and Teddy’s arms. Not that those were bad things, but if he was going to turn around and go back to the States, he’d feel better if he’d actually been outside once.

And that conversation was one they still hadn’t had, between the apologies until they’d both run out of things to apologize for, and then the forgiving, which was a lot more fun. Teddy didn’t seem inclined to bring it up, and Billy wasn’t going to be the bucket of cold water over the day. Not again.

Which brought them to this moment, the sun setting over Trafalgar Square, the golden-pink twilight warming the white stone of the buildings surrounding them. The stone steps were cool under Billy’s legs and against his back, the pillar soaring into the sky behind him. Lions stood guard below them, a handful of laughing, shrieking kids running back and forth between the fountains. Teddy sat beside him, elbows on his knees as he stared out over the square. “You used to be able to feed the pigeons here,” he said wistfully. “Tuppence a bag.”

Billy laid his hand against Teddy’s lower back, soaking in the heat of him through the light jacket he’d thrown on. “Not allowed anymore?”

“They bring in hawks to scare them off so they don’t shit all over the statues.” Teddy shrugged. “The march of progress.”

Billy’s laugh came out as a snort and that set Teddy snickering at him. The silence fell again after that, but it was an easy companionable quiet that didn’t carry any dread; no portents of doom. He traced circles with his thumb against the base of Teddy’s spine, and Teddy leaned into the simple touch.

Sunset on the second day. They had to check out of the hotel in the morning; Billy’s return ticket was for tomorrow night. If they didn’t talk about it now, there wasn’t going to be another chance. “So what happens now?” Billy asked into the quiet.

“Dinner?” Teddy suggested, and Billy couldn’t quite place whether he was avoiding the question, or really hadn’t been fixating on the same things Billy had been.

“Slightly bigger picture.” Billy let out a breath. “Your plans from here. What are they?”

And there was the expression he’d half-expected, Teddy scruffing his hand against the back of his neck, his smile faintly sheepish. “Honestly? I hadn’t planned anything beyond this. I couldn’t think about anything other than seeing you again. And I had no idea what was going to happen if you came.”

That didn’t help Billy figure anything out, but it helped him breathe a little easier. For what that was worth.

Teddy frowned at the sky, then leaned back against the step and bumped Billy’s shoulder with his own. “Some of the guys I met at the hostel in Lisbon are going to be taking the Eurostar over to Berlin in a couple of weeks,” he offered. “We can meet up with them there, if you want. The train passes are cheap if you’ve got your student ID with you. You’ll need a backpack...”

He trailed off, probably reacting to whatever ‘incredulous surprise’ actually looked like on Billy’s face. “I’ll probably keep going for a while,” he summed up simply. “And I don’t want to do it without you any more. Come with me. If you can.” And then he set his jaw, probably waiting for the rejection. What had Billy yelled at him last week? ‘I have a life’? ‘I can’t drop everything for you’?

Fuck it.

Turning the idea over in his mind didn’t expose any secret traps. He’d paid for the plane tickets already, moving his departure wasn’t that much on top of everything else. He didn’t have a job lined up yet, and he’d brought his camera and small laptop with him- “What the hell,” he said out loud, and the smile that blossomed on Teddy’s face proved instantly that he was making the right call.

“What about your life?” Teddy asked him pointedly. “I thought you had a lot going on at home.”

Billy shrugged, laced his hands together and set them behind his head, stretching his legs out down the stair in front of them. “I haven’t done anything ridiculous or reckless in about forty-eight hours. I’m overdue.”

Teddy laughed for real, shaking his head. “Your parents are going to murder me for this.”

“Are you kidding?” Billy snorted. “They’ll give you a medal for getting me out of the darkroom and the editing suite.”

“You’re serious about this?”

Billy nodded, feeling more sure of it every moment that he sat with the idea. “Yeah. I am. I’ve got a chance to do some traveling, I have some savings I can tap without going bust, and I’ve managed to hook up with the hottest tour guide in Europe. I’d be an idiot not to.” There was so much more to it, including the thrill that surged through him when Teddy scooted closer and they sat thigh to thigh, but he didn’t need to put that part into words. Not right now.

 “Who is this guy? I need to tell him to back off,” Teddy teased.

“Possessive much?”

“Always.”

“As long as you’re not planning to pee on me to mark your territory. I draw the line at water sports.”

Teddy waved him off in a hurry. “You’re safe there. Not my kink.”

But there was something to it, (other than the peeing thing, obviously). He’d always been territorial that way—leaving his t-shirts for Billy to wear, revelling in the marks Billy bit and scratched into his skin when they made love. _Proof that someone loves me,_ he’d called it. And while this Teddy was a lot more confident than he’d been at seventeen, needs like that didn’t just go away.

And Billy had the answer sitting in his pocket.

His body heat had kept it warm, the steel links easy enough to catch with his fingertip and pull. Teddy’s bracelet glinted in the golden twilight, and Billy smoothed it out to lie flat in his hand. “There’s this.” And then he held his breath, because it had meant rejection once already today; would Teddy understand this as the apology that it was?

He seemed to, tracing the links with a single fingertip before covering it—and Billy’s palm—with his hand. “Would you want to wear it again? This morning you wanted to give it back.”

“We’ve worked more of our shit out since then,” Billy pointed out quickly. “It wouldn’t have meant the right thing this morning, or yesterday.”

“And it will now?”

“I think so. Depends on what you want it to mean.”

“You really need me to spell it out?” Teddy flushed across the tops of his cheekbones, looking down at their clasped hands. “I want you to be mine again, Billy. All of you, back with me. And to start making a hundred new memories to fill in the blank spaces.”

It was too much, too intense, and Billy’s treacherous brain tried to find an escape hatch to avoid the wave of feeling washing over him all of a sudden. There was no running from it—he’d invited it in—and he gave up fighting. Mostly. “After two days of hotel sex, you’re asking me to go steady?” Just a test, one last one to see if he meant it.

Turned out he did. “We still fit together, Bee. We can be good together again. I can feel it in my bones. I knew when I saw you that there’s still something here we can build on. Better – stronger – we have the technology.” And he was still a teasing jerk, but he kissed Billy back when Billy tipped his chin up and leaned in to steal a kiss.  

“You’re a real optimist now,” Billy tested the rest of the edges of this thing, perfect and new. Something he hadn’t managed to dent yet.

Teddy nuzzled in behind his ear and laid a kiss on one of the sensitive spots on Billy’s throat. “See what I mean about things changing?”

“You better not have turned into a morning person too. I don’t think I can cope with that.”

The low, throaty laugh he got in return sounded an awful lot like confirmation mixed with a promise. But when it came down to honesty, he’d made up his mind when he got on the plane in New York. That they’d ended up here was part inevitable, part sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, and he had the chance now to make everything right again.

Given all that, he could cope with someone being cheerful at him in the mornings. Especially someone who already knew him, inside and out.

Teddy sat back and took the bracelet, played with the clasp. “So is that a yes? You’ll come with me?”

“Yes, it’s a yes. And I want the bracelet back, unless you’re going to make me earn it again.”

“Now there’s a tempting thought...” Teddy’s grin was wicked, his gaze dropping to Billy’s mouth, but he shook his head instead. “No, I want you to wear it. It’ll make this feel real.” And he slipped the metal links around Billy’s wrist, and closed the clasp. It wasn’t like gaining back a phantom limb—that was a little too theatrical even for Billy—but there was an indefinable sense of _rightness_ that came with it. Probably because he’d worn it 24-7 for years before.

“I’m going to have to call my parents, let them know,” Billy sighed, settling into Teddy’s arms, his back resting against the solid heat of Teddy’s chest. Teddy rested his chin on top of Billy’s head and that felt right too, their bodies built to fit perfectly together in a hundred different configurations. “And change my plane ticket, figure out what visas I need. Make sure I can get my prescriptions refilled next month. I’ll have to be home at some point this summer, and I still have school in the fall-”

“We’ll figure it out,” Teddy promised. “We’ve got the hard part done already. The rest is just logistics.”

 _Just logistics_. It sounded too good to be true. But then, so was the boy that Billy loved. And now the summer was stretching out before them, and the sun that was setting now would rise tomorrow on a world of possibility.

* * *

[bleedlebloop] The skype ring again, this time going out. Billy sat at the coffee table in the hotel room, their bags packed, his small travel laptop still out in front of him.

“They’re going to kill me.”

“You’re an adult; what can they do?” Teddy wasn’t exactly being helpful, but he was distracted, busy paging through his guidebook again and flagging things with post-it tabs. (“You can’t always count on wi-fi, Bee.”)

“Their powers are many and varied.” But his doom-and-gloom was cut short when his mother answered the call, her face swimming into focus.

“Billy? Why are you calling on the computer?”

“Hi, Mom. Sorry about the skype thing, but there are no long distance fees this way.”

“Long distance? What-”

“I’m in England. Kind of a last-minute trip. But I don’t want you to worry.” Wrong thing to say, of course, since that immediately triggered her worry-face. “It’s easier to show you than explain.”

Billy turned the computer a few degrees so the camera would catch Teddy, cross-legged on the (tidy, made) hotel bed. Teddy looked up then, pen jutting out of his mouth, and gave Billy a wide-eyed, slightly hunted look before waving, hesitantly, at the camera. “Hi, Dr. K.”

“Theodore!”

Billy turned the computer back to face himself in time to see his mother’s bright, surprised smile get replaced by something artificially stern. The face that said ‘I’m actually ecstatic about this, but I’ve got to be Your Parent right now.’ He could deal with that version.

“I’m going to use the time to get some footage, so it’s kind of a working vacation,” he added quickly, to avoid any discussion that began with ‘But What About Your Films.’

“How long are you going to stay?”

“A week in London and the south of England, then we’re not sure. We’re going to play it by ear.”

_See if we can really make this work, prove that we haven’t lost too much time already._

“Be safe, sweetheart. Keep your passport somewhere secure. And don’t hesitate to call if you boys end up needing anything.”

“I will. Love you.”

She gave him that smile again, and the last little bit of dread vanished. That was tantamount to approval — practically a ticker-tape parade. “All our best to Teddy as well. It’s good to see him again.”  

He disconnected and let out a satisfied sigh.

“We’re back to ‘you boys,’?” Teddy asked from the bed. “That was fast.”

“Are you kidding?” Billy snorted softly. “My parents love you. I think they’d have preferred to keep you instead of me when we broke up.”

Teddy nodded, the corners of his lips twitching up. “I have that effect on mothers.”

“Mothers, nothing. That was my dad.”

“My powers of charm are mighty.” Teddy set the book aside as Billy prowled toward him.

Billy dropped to his hands and knees on the bed. “Keep thinking that.” He stopped an inch or so from Teddy, traced the line of his nose with the tip of his own.

Teddy’s voice settled into a softer murmur. “It worked on you.”

“No, that was your shoulders. And your arms.” Billy sat back on his heels and made a show of looking Teddy over carefully. “How the hell did you manage to get _even more_ good looking than you were before?”

Teddy’s smile was blinding, this angel-boy, Billy’s golden prince. _All mine again._ “Power of positive thinking?”

“Power your positive butt over here. We’ve got two hours left before checkout and I know exactly how I want to use them.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My favourite image of Trafalgar Square.](https://www.willpearson.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/trafalgar-square-panorama.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> (The last time I was there, you could still feed the birds.)


End file.
